Hopelessly in Love
by Xazz
Summary: 30 days of AltMal drabbles.
1. Holding Hands

It was a game to them. It was after hours, though they didn't have to be down in their halls yet, it wasn't that late. Altair peered around the corner slowly and then ducked back at seeing Malik down the hall at the other end, looking for him. He still had Malik's book tucked under his arm and that was why Malik was looking for him. Or that was their excuse anyway, Malik wanted his book back. They always had to make excuses for this.

He edged away from the corner and quietly walked away from it. He heard Malik coming towards him and timed his own footsteps with Malik's as he walked away. Altair tugged on his gray hood so he could see over his shoulder better in time to see Malik round the corner. "Altair! Give me my book back you incompetent idiot!" Malik cried when he saw him.

Altair turned so he was walking backwards. "Come and get it Malik," he teased, holding the book out tauntingly.

"Altair!" and Malik stormed towards him. With a noise he'd never admit to later as being a giggle Altair took off down the hall. Malik ran after him. They pounded down the hall and then up a flight of stairs. There were some brothers in white in the upstairs hallway and they zipped around them, their brothers calling after then but the two paid them no mind.

Altair found the room he wanted and darted inside and ran to the window. He took enough time to shove the book down his shirt before climbing onto the window sill and jumping up to catch the top and shimmed along the edge on his hands before dropping onto a thin ledge on the outside of the fortress. As he did Malik stuck his head out of the window. "Altair you stupid child, give me my book back," he snapped, the wind knocking his hood off.

"I have no book Malik," Altair showed Malik his empty hands with a smirk. Scowling Malik followed him to the tiny ledge. By that point Altair had started to climb the peaked roof up to the top where the peak buttressed against the front of the fortress' facade. There he sat against the flat part of the roof, the wind tugging at his clothes, and there Malik caught up to him, going slow even though the grade of the roof wasn't much.

"Where's my book?" Malik demanded as he came up to Altair.

"I told you. I don't have a book," Altair grinned at him. Malik tackled him and thanks to the way the roof was built they didn't tumble one way or another.

"Here," and Malik hit him in the chest where the book was. It made him cough. "Now give it back."

"You can take it," Altair said, schooling his features.

Malik's face went slack for a second and then he flushed a little. He hesitated a second before tugging on Altair's sash slightly and undoing the buttons that held his shirt together. Altair's eyes watched Malik's hands before they suddenly jumped off him like it burned him. "Just give me my book back," Malik said, swallowing. Altair held up his hands and then put them behind his head as a show of where they were and what they wouldn't be doing. "You obnoxious little shit head," Malik growled. Altair just grinned smugly at him.

Malik rubbed his face and then very quickly tugged Altair's shirt open and snatched his book from where it lay innocently on his stomach and closed his shirt again. Red faced Malik went to stand up but Altair caught his hand and pulled him back down. "You're mean," Malik told him even as he threaded his fingers together with Malik's.

"You don't want me any other way," Altair said with a faint smile, his other hand grabbed the front of Malik's collar and pulled him down.

"Sometimes I wish otherwise," Malik breathed as their noses brushed. Altair squeezed Malik's hand before lightly pressing his lips to Malik's. They fumbled for half a second before Malik got with the program, he always took a second, like he was conflicted that he really did like this. Then he settled and cupped the back of Altair's head, book forgotten and pressed Altair firmly into the roof. Altair kept hold of his hand and the other slid into Malik's messy black hair. They stayed up there until it got too late before having to sneak back to their rooms and sleep. Altair went to sleep that night with the taste of Malik on his lips.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

Altair ran his fingers along a book spine, head tilted to read the title, and then moved on. His fingers trailed after him as he walked the length of the bookshelf inside Masyaf's library. The library was rather large with an open area in the middle for desks and novices and scholars, and winding bookshelves like a maze leading off it. Technically Altair was skipping class by being here since his class was _supposed_ to be down in the third ring practicing disarming. Altair already knew how to disarm his teacher though, he didn't need to practice anymore. So he was skipping class and had found himself in the library.

He stopped in front of another book and looked at it. This one he actually did tug off the shelf and open it. He squinted at the Arabic which looked like a mess of squiggles to him for a few moments before his brain could properly order the characters. He read the first page slowly before putting the book back. He tugged a big one down from a taller shelf, having to go up on a stool and almost fell on his ass to get it. But he stayed upright and maneuvered the book to open it.

It was filled with field pictures, both carvings and drawings and Altair smiled. Books with pictures were hard to find, at least ones that was mostly pictures like this one. He closed the book and went to find a place out of the way to look at his book where no one else would find him since he was too old to be looking at books with more pictures than words in them. While he did think to hell with those people he also _did_ have an image to maintain.

There were chairs and desks along the walls of the library as well as small alcoves mostly hidden from sight for scholars to use and not be interrupted by the normal use of the library. Most of them were filled with an adults, pouring over books and scrolls and paper, and the other chairs were too in the open. But then he passed one of the hide-aways, giving it a courtesy glance and pulled himself up short at what he saw.

Malik was sitting at the desk inside the cubby, head head on an open book, napping, his hood askew on his head. Altair grinned and slid into the alcove and sat on the bench next to Malik who didn't wake. He put his book on the desk and checked around quickly. There was no one else there and even then they were rather well guarded from sight. Altair put his hand on Malik's thigh and then slid it up the inside towards his groin, squeezing lightly as he did so. Malik sniffed in his sleep but didn't wake. Altair slid his hand up further and actually gave Malik's crotch a light squeeze.

Clearly Malik had only been sleeping lightly because he jerked awake at that. Altair laughed at him when Malik suddenly snorted, and sat up, blinking awake as Altair kept his hands to himself. Malik blinked several times, trying to see, then he focused on Altair. "You're a fuck," Malik told him and his insult was weak, which just amused Altair. "What're you doing here?" he asked, wiping his eyes.

"Skipping class," Altair said and pulled his book towards him.

"You're skipping class to _read_? I've officially seen everything," and then Malik opened Altair's book and saw the pictures. "Ah-

"Shut up," Altair said scornfully.

"I didn't say anything," Malik said, holding both hands up.

"You would have," he grumbled.

"I wouldn't have," Malik promised.

"What're were you doing?"

"Research," Malik said with a shrug.

"Sounds boring," Altair made a face.

"It was about Plato."

"Boring," Altair declared.

"I like the words in books Altair, not the pictures," and Altair punched him a bit more than playfully for that. Malik just grabbed him and pulled him close. "Lets see your book," Malik said and pulled it into Altair's lap.

"Nothing fancy," Altair attempted to say.

"Shush. The fact that you willingly picked out a book on your own is a bit of a big deal. Normally it's a trial," Malik rolled his eyes. Altair was nervous at first as Malik opened his book in his lap but when he said nothing he relaxed, leaning into him. Malik looped one arm around his waist, the other slowly turned the pages. After several minutes they shifted around to be a bit more comfortable on the wooden, backed, bench. Altair was firmly pressed up against Malik who was toying with the brown sash.

The book Altair had chosen was thick and it took a long time to even get to the middle. Altair felt calm nestled against Malik's form, his head brushing the underside of Malik's chin. At one point he pressed his hand to a page. "Hmm?" Malik asked.

"I like this," Altair said. It was an engraving of a forest. A huge forest that vanished into the distance. There was nothing like that in Syria. The forests here were small and not very deep and were usually just simple copses of trees.

"It says it's an engraving of a jungle in India," Malik said.

"I'd like India," Altair said, leaning against Malik.

"You can't speak Indian," Malik said.

"One, it's Hindi, and two, yes I can," Altair said with a roll of his eyes.

"No you can't," and Malik turned the page.

"Can so."

"Can not, now shut up," Malik said, squeezing him. Altair pouted, but dropped the subject. They continued through the book, Malik's head eventually rested against Altair's shoulder, sometimes nuzzling against him. Altair made a soft noise each time he did, squeezing one of Malik's fingers on the hand that was around his waist. By the time they'd finished the book those nuzzles had turned into kisses pressed against his neck and jaw.

Then Altair pulled away, feeling like something was off. He untangled himself from Malik just in time for an instructor to appear in the opening to the alcove. "Altair!" they said sharply.

"Busted," Malik told him quietly. Altair just frowned and slid off the bench and out of the cubby to the instructor's irritated prattle about how Altair couldn't skip lessons and he didn't care what the Mentor said, he wasn't any better or special than his peers. He ended up dragging Altair back downstairs to their class where he was made to drill disarmings.


	3. Gaming

Altair put on his most petulant face as Malik pushed him down into the chair behind the chess board. He didn't have time for games, even though it was night time and thus they had no classes, lessons or other engagements right now. Malik sat down on the other side, he played black.

"I don't know _why_ you're making me do this," Altair grumbled.

"To keep you out of trouble," Malik said. "I know you know the basics of the game." Altair nodded, "If you have a question, just ask," he added.

"I hate you," Altair grumbled and tugged his gray hood up.

"Ah! No hood."

"What?" Altair stared at him.

"No hood."

"What are you? The Master?" Altair rolled his eyes at him.

"I can just take it from you if you want," Malik said.

Altair narrowed his eyes at him but yanked it down, "Happy?" he growled.

"Fantastically so," Malik grinned at him. "Go," he added.

Altair frowned but moved a pawn carelessly. They played for several minutes when Altair said, "Check."

"What? I'm not in check."

"Are so," Altair pointed and Malik looked confused, but moved himself out of check.

Three moves later Altair said, "Check again." Malik scowled at him and moved out of check. "Check," Altair said when Malik moved.

"No it isn't."

"Here," Altair drew a line through where his bishop was. "So… check." Malik scrutinized the board and moved himself out of danger. They played a few more turns before Altair proclaimed, "Mate."

"How the hell did you do that?" Malik demanded even as he knocked over his king.

"It's not like chess is difficult," Altair said.

"Best two of three," Malik said.

Altair rolled his eyes, "Fiiine."

About two hours later they were still playing. Malik was growing more frustrated by the moment too, which wasn't helping his already sloppy chess game. Really Malik wasn't very good at chess. Altair had only played a few times, but he found it boring. He was also good at it. He and Abbas used to play, before Abbas turned into a raging asshole and started hating him for literally no reason. Abbas was a better chess player than Malik too.

Altair had his fist propping up his cheek boredly. They'd just finished another game. "How the hell are you so good at this game?" Malik demanded.

"Chess isn't hard," Altair said. "It's just war."

"_Just_ war," Malik said sarcastically.

"What do you want from me? I was _bred_ for this. Sorry farmer boy doesn't get it," Malik let the jab go. Really though. Altair's father had been an Assassin, his father had been one too, and so on. Altair could trace his lineage far back into the Order if he really tried. Malik had been brought in from somewhere else, he and Kadar were both first generation Assassins.

"But chess and war aren't the same."

"It's all strategy," Altair shrugged. "And it doesn't help that you're a shoddy player."

"What? Am not."

_"Abbas _is better than you, and he couldn't beat me either," Altair rolled his eyes at Malik and Malik just seemed upset. Altair didn't understand why he was so upset. Sure he'd lost and Malik wasn't a very graceful loser, but this wasn't that. Then it slowly seeped int what was up. "Did you think I was going to be bad?"

"Yes, actually. I did."

"Why? Because I'm not smart?" he asked scathingly. Malik didn't answer. He didn't have to. Altair flipped the board off the table. "There's a difference between being smart and being able to read," and then he got up.

"Altair, wait I didn't-

"Save it," Altair held up his hand as he tugged his hood up.

"I don't think you're stupid-

"_Clearly_. Otherwise you wouldn't try to prove the fact with a game," Altair scowled at him. "Talk to me again when you're not so juvenile," and he left the room. Malik called after him but he didn't turn back. Malik was being a jerk and didn't deserve Altair to stop and listen to him. When he could get off his high horse he'd talk to Malik again. He wasn't stupid. He just had a hard time doing their lessons. That _didn't mean_ he was dumb though. He thought Malik got that. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would that he was wrong.


	4. On a Date

Normally they weren't allowed to have free time on missions. It was very business-like at all times. You went to the city you were assigned, the Dai gave you orders, you completed your mission, you went home. That was how missions worked, especially for novices like them, there was no time out of the mission.

Except this time there was.

Christians had interesting holidays. Like 'Christmas'. Apparently it was a big deal for the Christians. Altair didn't get it. It celebrated the day their prophet Jesus rose from the dead… or something. Altair hadn't paid much attention during religious classes. He knew enough to attend a service without looking like an idiot and could speak Latin and Hebrew, he figured it was good enough.

But _Christmas_. It was a big deal and Jerusalem had a lot of Christians. To be fair so did other cities, but it was one of the few times a year when Jerusalem was _safe_, as it was a terribly dangerous city with gang warfare, religious extremists, aggressive guards, crusaders and saracen army men, thieves, cut throats and in general it was just dangerous. Usually getting sent on a mission to Jerusalem meant that you'd made the Master angry. The Dai there was also usually replaced every few years without much fuss. But Christmas most of the factions stilled as it was a time of festival as the Muslims nor the Jews had a holiday like Christmas.

The festivities took up nearly the entire Christian corner of Jerusalem. Normally this would be a perfect time to strike at their target, except even Assassins respected large gatherings and holy festivals as most, if not religious, were highly superstitious. There was no killing during holy days.

So that meant Altair and Malik, who'd been sent here for a kill, got the day off. Altair had slept in, curled up under warm blankets to escape the chilly Jerusalem night, Malik sleeping on the other cot next to him. He only woke to the smell of tea and breakfast. Then Malik was dragging him out of the bureau so fast he barely had time to grab his short sword.

"Where are we going?" he whined as Malik dragged him through the streets.

"It's the festival today."

"Yeah, so?" he groaned. He'd just wanted to rest and nap the day away in the concealed garden. He didn't want to be dragged all over Jerusalem, it wasn't like they got days off normally anyway.

"It started already, it'll be fun," Malik grinned at him and Altair groaned irritably to make him opinion known, though he knew Malik didn't care. Altair was going with him to the festival and Altair better learn to like it because he didn't have a choice in the matter. What else was new? Not much too be honest. Malik was forever dragging him into situations he didn't want to be a part of, especially on missions. Altair just wanted to do his work, kill who he was supposed to kill, and be done with it. He actually _did_ want to survive long enough to lose his finger though Malik made that _incredibly_ difficult for reasons unknown to him sometimes. But because he liked to make Malik happy (which was feat to itself) he went along with it most of the time because Malik smiled about as much as Altair himself did but… he liked to see Malik smile. So he went along with the stupidity, because he wanted to see that smile.

As it was still morning the festival was only just started up with there were stalls already selling tea and breakfast. They wandered the streets looking around first, scoping everything out, and as the day wore on more people showed up, the crowd becoming larger and nosier, more vendors opening and the smell of cooking food was a thick cloud in the air. Malik was mostly pulling Altair through the crowds by the hand from one thing to the next and Altair let him, Malik was enjoying himself and that was enough for him.

Before noon they started to see entertainers. Men and women both who played instruments or danced or sang or did trick. In a large square they found it roped off for a performing lion. Altair and Malik watched for a long time, slightly slack jawed. It was in the wealthy part of the Christian district, near where some nobles lived, no wonder there was a _lion_. The two ended up climbing up onto a statue and watching because they'd never seen anything like this.

They only left when they started to grow hungry and lifted a purse from some wealthy man who wouldn't miss it and bought so much food they were nearly sick. Altair got what he wanted then and they climbed to the top of a first story and lay side by side on the roof in the sun. He dozed though Malik stayed awake, though neither of them feared being spotted by the guards as there were dozens of people up on the roofs, holding parties of their own or doing house work in preparation of later tonight.

"This is fun," Malik said and Altair hummed. Malik threaded his fingers together with Altair's and Altair squeezed his hand back. They laid there for a while more, digesting all the food they'd eaten, before getting up and doing it all over again.

The sun slid towards the horizon quickly in the middle of winter and soon the sun was starting to set. As it did they stumbled upon a group of dancers. They were almost all beautiful women with bells on their hips and ankles and wrists so they seemed to be musical instruments unto themselves. Men played hand drums and pipes on the ground around them and a bucket had been left for tips. People tossed in coins or just stayed and watched. There was a huge crowd though. Altair and Malik managed to get up to the front and then sat down cross-legged watching in more than a little wonder for the women seemed to be able to move their hips and shoulders independently of each other and their own bodies.

They stayed through two performances, then on the third, they got up to leave, the sun low in the sky, mostly hidden behind buildings now. Malik gave Altair a few coins, since he'd been holding the purse they'd lifted, and he went to go toss them into the bucket when one of the women approached him. His eyes widened under his hood when she beckoned to him and took his hand. Oh god. He'd seen them do this to other people, bring them into the performance. He wanted to refuse but when he glanced over his shoulder he saw Malik grinning widely, clearly wanting to see what Altair would do.

He swallowed and let the woman pull him into the area. She smiled prettily at him and now held both his hands in hers delicately. Altair heard someone speaking loudly, he knew this part, it was the interactive part. He felt his ears turn hot at some cheering. "Can you do this?" she asked and jutted her hip out at an obscene angle.

"Uh…" and he tried. She smiled and it wasn't patronizing. She had him do a few other silly thing and he wasn't paying attention to anything else but her because if he did he'd just get wildly embarrassed.

Finally though it was over and he was released back into the crowd with applause. Altair just ducked his head and made his escape. Malik found him seconds later and looped his arm around his shoulders. "I didn't know you could dance," he teased. Altair said nothing, "Awww, c'mon, you were great," and Malik squeezed his shoulders.

"That was horrifying," Altair squeaked.

Malik laughed, "It was great. And I didn't know you could move your hips like that," he glanced at Malik and Malik was beaming at him. Then Malik leaned in closer to speak near his ear, "You'll have to show me again later," and that made Altair's entire face turn red. It was one thing to talk about that sort of stuff in private. But in public? Positively _mortifying_. What if someone heard?

He brushed Malik's arm off him and said, "I'm hungry."

"Well, there's plenty to eat, lets find something," Malik was still smiling and they left the area where the dancers were and got lost amid the vendors and stalls of the festival.

It was dark out when everything started to wind down. The moon was half bellied in the sky overhead and the stars were in brilliant swaths in the darkness. Altair and Malik had climbed up to the top of a high building and looked down at the Christian district that while winding down was still covered in lights and the smell of good food though most of the performers had packed up by now. The other districts were mostly dark now, for the non Christians this was just another day, another day.

"That was fun," Malik said.

"I guess," Altair grumbled, still feeling the sting of being made to dance.

"You have a good time, stop pretending you didn't," Malik told him with a smirk.

"I was marginally amused," Altair agreed.

"You're such prat," Malik told him. "Don't make me make you enjoy today," he threatened.

"I don't see ho-" Malik grabbed him by the hood and pulled his head around and kissed him, sharing the same shadow of Altair's hood. He inhaled sharply in surprise but kissed Malik back all the same.

"Feel like you could enjoy the day yet?" Malik asked him, still painfully close, their lips almost touching.

"I might," Altair breathed. Malik smirked and kissed him again. "Getting there," and again, "yeah okay I don't think today was a _total_ waste," and that made Malik laugh. "We going back to the bureau?" he asked.

"I don't feel like it," Malik sighed and lay down on the roof, Altair looked down at him.

"Wouldn't be the first time we slept in a garden box."

"Oh the things we've done in garden boxes," and they both flushed at the memory. "Bureau's on the other side of the city. Don't wanna," Altair laid down next to him.

"Okay. We need to finish our mission tomorrow," Malik nodded and rolled onto his belly.

"Lets find a place to sleep," he said, eyes scanning. Altair joined the search and after a few moments they found a suitable location and got up, Altair trailed after Malik as they trotted across the rooftops.


	5. Kissing

Soft touches on his face woke Altair. His eyes cracked open. Malik was propped up on what was left of his arm stroking his face with his good one, watching him sleep. "Hmm?" he asked stupidly.

"Time to wake up," Malik said in a gentle voice and leaned down and kissed him sweetly on the lips. Altair grew more attentive at that, a bit more awake. Enough to kiss him back briefly before Malik pulled away again.

"I don't wanna," Altair grumbled and nuzzled into the pillows.

"Yes."

"I'm Al Mualim and I say no," Altair let his eyes slide closed again.

Malik chuckled, "Get up," Malik whispered, his lips against his ear and made Altair shiver. He kissed Altair behind the ear, up against his hair line and then tugged on Altair's ear lobe.

"Something's ganna get up if you keep doing that," Altair grumbled.

"It'll mean you're awake," Malik said teasingly and ran kisses up and down Altair's neck making him wiggle a little.

"You're an ass."

"And you like it," Malik reminded him. Altair hummed, yes, he did like it. "Get up," Malik told him again, running his hand down his chest.

Altair grabbed his hand and pushed him back so Malik was on his back and Altair straddled his hips. "I'm up," Altair growled with a smirk and then kissed Malik, rocking his hips forward.

"Yes you are," Malik didn't seem to be upset by that. Altair leaned down and kissed Malik firmly. "Though I have a feeling we aren't getting out of bed for a bit," and they both laughed, Malik sliding his hand around the back of Altair's neck and kissing him again. So much for breakfast.


End file.
